Black Ribbons
by blackinkonbluelines
Summary: Everyone is born marked with the name of their true love on the inside of their wrist. In this instance, Loki and the OC aren't happy about it.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** Thank you all so far for your feedback and your patience! Just knowing that you all are just as excited as I am for this story really does help. I just hope that I don't disappoint you all!

 **The** last of the golden sun glintered off the domed city spires in diamond white. The edges of night were beginning to close in, however, mottling the sky violet and crimson, sapphire and rose. The two moons were pushing the sun behind the jagged spiked mountain rims forming a crescent around the port. Below, the ships were nothing more than specs of dust, motes creating a film around the shoreline. Niya watched them from her balcony, imagining being part of the crew, as was her habit.

A swirling breeze blew, carrying with it the must of dust and the decay of leaves. The ends of the black ribbon around her wrist sputtered on the wind. She did nothing more than scowl at it.

That black ribbon was a bitter reminder of her fate, and a feeble attempt to conceal it. Beneath it scrawled the mark of a name of the man she would inevitably love. A joke of the gods', really. She had been born with the mark of this name. Growing up, she'd not paid it much thought. Her friends swooned and giggled over their own marks. As Niya grew older, she began hearing stories of a man by the name on her own wrist.

Loki. Prince of Asgard. A reckless warrior who'd follow his blood-lusting brother into any battle. Both felt entitled to rule over the Nine Realms. What a sick joke that the gods could even think she'd love a man like that.

A meager knock echoed from the door within her chambers, and reluctantly Niya left her balcony.

"Enter," she commanded as she stepped foot inside.

The door cracked open and her maid slipped in. Her face was pale, and she was mildly out of breath. She'd run from someplace. Niya waited, but her maid said nothing, standing there horrified. "Speak," she said with an eye roll.

"So sorry to disturb you, my lady, but your father has requested an audience with you."

Niya laughed. "Requested an audience?" She laughed once more. "Then I'm afraid you've come all this way for nothing, Arianna, for I simply must decline. Go along and tell him so." Niya began perusing her shelves for a book to read.

"But my lady…his request was more of a demand. And not to speak ill of his lordship, but you know how his mood changes when he's denied what he wants."

Niya clenched her fists so her nails dug into the skin of her palms. "Then for your sake I'll go to him. I'd hate for you to be at the receiving end of his anger." Arianna looked as though she might cry from relief, or vomit.

Niya left her maid standing in place as she threw open her door. As she walked, fury flared in her chest. With each step she took, she ground her heels into the jade green marble floor. Her steps rang through the halls. Servants melted against the wall as she passed. Niya didn't even stop at the massive double doors to her father's study. Instead, she shoved them open so they clanged against the walls.

"You've _summoned_ me, Father?" she spat.

The graying man dipped his quill in ink and finished scribbling his thought. He took his time to fold the parchment and melt drips of wax along the edge, finally pressing his seal into it.

"I can only assume you wish to continue our conversation from last night."

He glanced up at her and folded his hands on the desk. "Do sit down, Niya." She remained standing. He continued. "You are correct. I don't feel we've even begun our conversation."

"Oh, but I do. I am, in fact, certain we've finished it."

"How like your mother you are. All fire and no sense." He paused before speaking again. "You are being sent to Asgard, Niya, whether you like it or not. You will leave the day after tomorrow, and when you arrive, you will be pleasant and cordial to your hosts. You will partake in their celebrations and extend the civil hand of Alliance. You are not to return home until you've news of your betrothal to a prince of Asgard. Your city needs this alliance one way or another."

Niya scoffed. "I'm sure." She shook her head. "You rejoiced the day you discovered who belonged to the name on my wrist. You never gave a second thought to what kind of man he is—if he will treat me with the kindness and respect I deserve….If he'll love me." Tears stabbed at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't care. "No. All you heard was 'prince' and you saw only the throne."

Her father stared blankly at her. "Have you worn that black band for so long you've forgotten?" He leaned forward ever so slightly. "The gods put that name on your wrist for a reason, Niya. I had nothing to do with it. I have no need to worry myself with those concerns of yours simply because your fate _has_ been chosen by the gods."

Niya swallowed a scream and the desire to smack her father. "You put far too much faith in the gods."

"And you blame them far too much for the death of your mother."

Niya was on the verge of losing control of her anger. "No, Father. I only partially blame them. Mostly I blame you."

The man sprang to his feet, nearly toppling his chair backward. He leaned over his desk, open palm poised to strike against Niya's cheek. She didn't even flinch. She remained as she was, glaring up at her father, almost daring him to strike her. His fingers closed in on themselves, and he ground his fist on the desk. Several moments passed before he spoke again. When he did, he didn't look at Niya.

"You will go to Asgard. You will do your duty and form the alliance. You will fulfill your destiny. If I have to personally place you on that ship, I will do so."

Niya stood with a straight back. "I will gladly get on any ship that would take me away from you." With that, she left, not bothering to shut the doors behind her.

. . .

 **The** next day passed and Niya had hardly left her rooms. The only company she kept was her maid, Arianna, who insisted on packing for her. While Niya draped herself across her bed, cradling a book in her hands, Arianna skipped between her wardrobe and trunks. Each dress she pulled, she held out for Niya to scrutinize. Niya couldn't be bothered to care.

After a few hours, she sighed, set her book down, and looked Arianna squarely in the face. "What you're doing is sweet and highly appreciated. I thank you sincerely for your concern. However, I only care that I'm leaving this city. I couldn't care any less about fancy gowns. So if you must pack, pack using your own intellect. If you think there may be a use for such a gown, then by all means pack it away. But by the gods, leave me to my book."

After that, Arianna kept her silence. She didn't appear to be hurt for long, however, as she began swaying and humming as she took care folding the delicate gowns.

The night before she was to leave, Niya hadn't slept much. When she did, she tossed in her sheets. The blankets twisted around her legs, and in her nightmares she was being pulled below the water's surface, drowning in the clutches of a tentacled monster. Several times she awoke, out of breath and covered in a sheen of sweat. To calm her nerves, she would read from the first book her fingers found on her bedside table in the low candlelight. When she finally drifted off to sleep once more, the book slipped from her grip, falling closed against her mattress.

Now Niya and her maid stood on the docks surrounded by fanfare. Niya was forced to smile and wave at the crowd, bidding them farewell as the charming Lady of the City everyone believed she was. Her smile almost died at the sight of her father watching her several feet away with arms crossed over his barrel chest. But for the sake of her crowd, she smiled sweetly and curtsied a short farewell in his direction. She turned and stepped onto the walk leading onto the ship. Arianna followed behind with men of the crew following behind her, carrying the luggage. The captain held out his hand for her to take, helping her aboard.

Niya stayed on deck only for as long as the crowds could see her. Once they set sail and were on their way, she dropped the façade and dipped below deck, requesting to be shown to her room. It wouldn't be a particularly long journey—only a few hours—and she was engrossed with the book she'd been reading. But the gentle swaying and hum of the ship wouldn't let her finish reading…before long, she had fallen asleep, curled on her side and cuddling the book in her arms. She ended up sleeping the entire trip to Asgard.

Niya awoke to Arianna bustling about the room.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Arianna turned to face her lady. "Oh good! You're awake. We're nearly there, and I think you could do with a bit of refreshing before being received by the royal family." A look of horror splashed across her freckled face. "Not to say that you look bad, my Lady. Of course not. Simply a little rumpled from your nap."

Niya smiled. "It's alright. I can take a little criticism, Arianna. And I thank you for your honesty." Niya let her book close and moved to sit at the small vanity. Seeing her reflection in the mirror, she silently agreed with Arianna. Her dark auburn hair had fallen loose from the braids on one side and stuck up in all directions. Her right cheek was creased with lines from the bedding. Dark shadows rimmed her coffee eyes. She sighed. "Make me presentable, then."

Arianna grinned and set to work twisting and pinning Niya's long waves in an intricate design. Then she swiped colored dust across her cheeks and lids, adding a hint of color and sparkle. Arianna sang as she worked, and Niya trapped herself in her thoughts, imagining her stay, wondering if she should run away.

She'd decided to wait and see how Asgard suited her before settling on an escape plan.

The ship shuddered to a stop, and Niya's stomach plummeted. Anxiety rushed through her veins, and she fought to control her breathing. Wordlessly she made her way to the decks, where a steward awaited to escort her to the docks. Asgardians clustered along the perimeter, curious to see the young ambassador who would be staying indefinitely. Most everyone was smiling at her.

Niya focused ahead of herself and saw a slender woman with wheat-colored curls and electric blue eyes. Without a doubt, Niya knew this was the All Mother—not at all who she expected to receive her.

Niya stopped a short distance before her and curtsied. Frigga opened her arms and pulled her into a hug.

"Welcome to Asgard." She held Niya out at arm's length. "I've heard quite a bit about you," she said with a smile. "But come along and you can tell me more. I prefer to hear my stories first hand."

She strode towards a carriage. Startled, Niya nearly sprinted to catch up to her. A steward helped her climb in beside Frigga. "I beg your pardon, your majesty, but I wasn't expecting you to be awaiting my arrival on the docks."

Frigga smiled. "I wasn't about to leave such a charming girl to the servants." She looked Niya over. "I thought we might have a chat before reaching the palace."

"What about?"

"Your father's intentions."

Niya's eyes widened. "My father's intentions in no way reflect my own. I—"

"So I've heard. Word travels fast and far." Her eyes flicked to the black ribbon around Niya's wrist. Frigga folded up her own sleeve, exposing her own mark, tracing her fingertips over the script. "I haven't yet decided, after all this time, if the gods have a great sense of humor, or if they're more wise than anyone can begin to fathom." She let her hands drop to her lap. "Loki hides his mark as well. Always has."

Niya looked to her own hands fidgeting with a small pleat in her skirt. "I hide mine to forget, to pretend for even a moment that I have full control of my life."

"The gods only let you know in advance what the heart desires. They're nothing more than scribes."

Niya looked up at Frigga, confused. "But I thought—"

"When I said I couldn't decided if the gods were humorous or wise, I meant by letting us know in advance." Frigga looked at her with a hint of pity. "You view your mark as a passing of judgment, a punishment. You say you want control of your life…but you already have it. The name on your wrist is only a mark. It is your choice to allow yourself that happiness."

"What about fate?"

Frigga smiled. "Fate will only bring you so far. You will love my son, but you don't have to end up with him if you don't wish it."

"I grew up hearing it was never a choice."

"My dear, the gods gave us free will."

Niya sat back against the plush gold cushions. A smile bloomed across her lips. "Thank you. That may have been the most assuring thing anyone has ever told me." Her smile grew larger. "Ragnarok will come before I give my father what he wants."

Frigga tilted her head to the side—just the smallest of ticks. "But what is it, precisely, that your father wants?"

Niya faltered, taking a moment to push a section of her hair behind her shoulder before answering. "To form an alliance between our people."

It was Frigga's turn to furrow her brow. "You do not wish an alliance?"

"Of course I do! Just not necessarily by the same methods."

She nodded in understanding. "You'd rather he speak with Odin on his own than to use you and your mark as an excuse."

"I don't see why he shouldn't. He is a grown man, after all."

Frigga laughed, and her blue eyes sparkled. "You will do just fine here."

The carriage swayed to a stop. "Take some time to get settled in. My sons will return from their adventures this evening, and we will celebrate."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** _Sorry to keep you all waiting so long for chapter two! It's been a busy several weeks, and it's about to get busier. Regardless I figured I'd celebrate my birthday this weekend by sharing the next chapter with you all. I hope you like it!_

 **Niya** slipped into an evening gown, pale green silk floating in thin, wispy layers around her curves. She kept her dark hair down with a crown of twisting braids. Before long, a maid was leading her to the grand hall where the festivities would commence. All around her was grandeur. Massive gold columns lined the halls. Some walls held murals of epic battles. Windows were thrown open to let the last of the warm summer air slip in.

The grand hall was even more extravagant, and most impressive was the throne at the head of the hall. Already people lined the edges of the room, chatting and laughing. Excitement radiated through the room, almost making the air vibrate.

The maid stopped near the dais and turned to Niya. "This is where you'll wait and watch the receiving." With that, she left, dissolving into the crowd almost at once.

More people pushed in beside her, and she made feeble attempts at smiling at them. They didn't seem to care either way. The crowd grew silent at the sight of Odin and Frigga. They took their places on the dais. Odin remained standing before his throne, facing the crowd.

"I would have a few words to say, but your queen has reminded me I can be a bit verbose." There was a collective chuckle from the crowd "Instead I'll just welcome back my sons—Thor and Loki—triumphant in keeping peace within the Nine Realms."

The crowd cheered, turning towards the two men who just entered the room. One was tall and muscular with blonde hair in waves to his shoulders. A grin was plastered to his face as he cheered the crowd in return. The second was also tall, but slender with dark hair. There was a surly look about him, almost peeved, as though he wanted to be anywhere else. They both hugged Frigga in turn. The blonde then stood beside his father, talking quietly to each other. The other stood beside his mother with his hands clasped in front of him, nodding with a faint smile as he said something.

The crowd had broken formality without Niya's notice, knowing well that the celebrations would soon start. Wine and ale was being passed around and conversations were starting up. Uncertain of what to do, Niya moved to stand against the wall with arms crossed. She watched the people. Standing on the wall nearly made her invisible, which suited her just fine.

As she watched the party grow louder, the people drunker, the stories more elaborate, she sipped three goblets of wine, and was beginning to feel content and more than a little warm.

"There you are." Niya turned to see Frigga. "Hiding, are you?"

"Just observing, really." She gestured vaguely around her. "You have a stunning home."

Frigga shrugged. "It can be a bit much." She held her hand out to Niya. "Come. Join the festivities."

With no option to decline, Niya linked arms with Frigga and allowed her to usher her into the center of it all. The two of them joined in the end of a story Thor was reciting.

"And what did little Loki do? He cried for my return!" Everyone laughed, save for Loki.

"To be fair, brother, there was supposedly a monster who feasted on small children. I was merely concerned with what father would have done had I returned home without you," he interjected, his voice low and soft.

Thor laughed. "Oh yes. That was it, I'm sure."

Loki rolled his eyes and dropped the topic. Thor drank deeply from his goblet and saw his mother standing with Niya.

"It appears we have company."

This was the moment Niya was dreading. The moment of introductions. The moment everyone had imagined all these years. She felt her cheeks and ears burn but forced herself to remain calm.

"This is Lady Niya. And I expect you all to play nice." She gave Niya a wink before leaving. Thor looked at Loki with a knowing grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Glad to finally meet you," said Thor.

"And you." Niya glanced between the two. Loki studied her with mild interest, lips lightly pursed and one eyebrow dipping lower. "I've heard quite a lot about your…triumphs…over the years."

Thor grinned. "Thank you!" He took another drink. "I've heard almost nothing about you."

Niya nodded and fought the urge to look down. "My father…he wouldn't allow me to do much of anything. I've spent most of my time reading." She silently cursed herself for adding that bit of information.

"Your father wouldn't allow?" Loki asked. "You've got a brain, haven't you? Two feet? That's all you need to do as you please."

Niya bit the inside of her lip and blinked slowly. Thor watched her, genuinely awaiting an answer. "And I thought you were known for your wit."

Thor chuckled. "I quite like you." Niya allowed herself a small smile. "I'll be glad to have you as my sister."

Niya gasped, momentarily mortified. Loki looked as thought he'd just watched Thor grow two heads. Thor finished off his drink, looking at them both. "What? That's what your father's plan was, was it not?" He asked. "Besides…were you not both marked for each other?"

Niya's hand went instinctively to the ribbon on her wrist.

"Have I said something wrong?" he asked when neither she nor Loki said anything.

Niya twisted the ribbon's ends between her fingers. "In fact, you've said everything correct. A brilliant show of knowledge."

"I see I've hit on a sensitive topic, and for that I am sorry."

Niya shook her head. "It's quite alright. You're simply more direct than I'm used to. If you'll excuse me…" Before anyone could say anything more, Niya left for the door, slipping between the maze of minglers on her way out. She didn't know where she was going, but she turned left a little down the corridor and found herself stepping out onto a terrace.

The lights of Asgard glowed gold, twinkling in the distance. Above, a scarlet bird flew from a branch of a white-leafed tree. All was entirely silent. Niya closed her eyes and faced into the cool, sweet breeze. It helped to cool her down, but she still felt as though she were burning. She never learned how to deal with embarrassment well. Leaning against the stone railing, Niya buried her face in her hands, rubbing her temples.

"My brother never has known when to be quiet."

Niya let her hands drop to her sides. "Why have you followed me?" she asked Loki.

He stepped closer and leaned against the tree, arms folded across his chest. "Why did you run away?"

Niya raised her eyebrows. "So you were enjoying that conversation, then?" He shrugged. "Honestly?"

"Well it wasn't my embarrassment they'll all be talking about."

She shook her head. "What could the gods have possibly been thinking?" she hissed under her breath.

He ticked his head to the side. "So you didn't agree with my mother's belief either, then?" He gestured awkwardly between them both. "About the two of us, I mean."

Niya furrowed her brow. "You don't believe we have a choice?"

Again he shrugged. His eyes assessed her. "Who's to say I even believe in the gods?" He stood straighter. "Are we not gods in the eyes of lesser creatures?"

"You would be god to an ant, but no more."

Loki smirked. "Perhaps not." He stepped closer to her. The moon lined his silhouette in silver. "Why do you despise me so when we have not yet properly met?"

Niya stood as tall as she could, but still felt dwarfed by Loki's frame. "The stories I've heard do not depict you in such good light. All I've heard of is your love of battle and hunger for power. You don't care in the slightest how many must die in your quest for the throne. But of all who live in the Nine Realms, why should you be king?"

Loki's features pinched, as though tasting something sour. "You've just described my brother."

"But you would follow him gladly. You support his actions."

"He _is_ my brother. What else should I do?"

Niya shrugged, frustration overflowing. "Have your own beliefs. Have the courage to live your own life."

Loki laughed dryly. "Empty words, coming from a girl who does only what her father _allows_."

Niya fought the urge to slap him, however much she wanted to see his smirk disappear. "Don't you dare judge me. You don't know the life I've lived."

Loki took a step closer still, peering down at her with a sarcastic smirk. "I'm only judging as much as you've judged me, darling." A hint of something like melancholy belied his look of mild amusement.

Niya pushed past him, not wanting to continue with the conversation.

"I'm sure you'll find that we're not all that dissimilar."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** _Hi all! Thank you for all your wonderful feedback to this point. I may not reply directly to you, but I read every comment and it makes me so freaking happy when I get your emails. I just wanted you all to know that. :) Also, as always, I hope you enjoy this next chapter!_

 **Once** Niya left, Loki slumped against the banister, watching without seeing the city around him. The fire and stubbornness she displayed had been so discordant to her actions. If she had so much will, why would she allow her father to dictate her life? Perhaps she was a liar. The smallest smile crept on his lips as he slipped his slender fingers around his wrist, running his thumb across the inside. He imagined he could feel the letters of her name smoldering into his skin below the black leather sleeve.

"Already she weighs on your mind."

"No more than five years ago," he replied.

Frigga leaned on the rail beside him, close enough that their arms touched. She always had known how to soothe her child. "Give it time, my son."

"Time? Time for what?"

She looped her arm around his, hugging him to her. "She has to come to you."

He hung his head. "You speak as though you know my heart."

She laughed lightly. "When you were young, you would come to me with your little wrist exposed and ask me to tell you a story about her. You would have me imagine what she would be like, list her favorite books."

He reclaimed his arm, turning away from Frigga. "I'm not that little boy anymore."

"No," she sighed. "I wonder where he has gone."

Loki finally looked at her. Her mouth was thin, jaw set, and her eyebrows were angled. "Please don't look at me like that, Mother."

She stepped closer. "You used to tell me everything."

Anger flared in his chest. "I don't know what you expect! The entire situation is thoroughly absurd! I've met her and feel nothing! Well, not unless annoyance counts for something. And why me? Why does Thor not bear the mark?"

Frigga cupped his face in her hands. "You are not your brother."

"As I'm frequently reminded." His tone was sharp. His eyes wouldn't meet his mother's.

She forced him to look down at her before speaking again. "Why must you do this to yourself?"

He took her hands in his, holding them a little tighter than needed. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Mother."

He dropped her hands and began walking away. "Loki," Frigga called. He stopped. "It's good to have you back home." He stepped inside without a reply.

Loki watched his feet as he walked, not paying attention to the extravagant halls. He'd wandered these corridors so many times in the past that his feet could carry him anywhere while his mind wandered. But inattentiveness caught him a bit off guard when Thor intercepted him. Thor's face was red from excitement and drink. As he swayed lightly, he gripped Loki's shoulder. Loki shrugged his hand away, but Thor simply did it again, and with more strength.

"Come, Brother! You are missing out on the festivities!" Thor tried to pull him back into the great hall, but Loki managed to duck away. Thor paused, confused. "One half of the celebration is for you. Your absence has been noticed."

"Go. Celebrate without me. I'm certain you're more than capable."

Thor swayed back on his heels before catching his balance. "If you do not want my company, all you have to do is say so."

"Does it look as though I want your company?" asked Loki.

Thor backed away a step, half raising an arm in mild defense. "Apparently not. Go then. Skulk about as usual."

Loki turned and continued down the hall as he had been before Thor intercepted him Instead of heading for his bedchambers, he turned towards the library.

At this time of night, only a few candles remained lit, illuminating alternate nooks. Bookshelves towered like trees set in neat rows. The ceiling was glass domed and webbed with golden swirls. Ivy dotted with fluorescent white and blue flowers climbed the pillars.

Loki followed a path he knew by heart through the labyrinthine shelves—turning right at fairy tales, straight past the histories, left at war strategies—until he found his personal alcove. Stacks of books threatened to topple to the floor, and it looked as though some already had. A few lay beside the cushioned chair, one or two opened on their spines to a random page, one lying face down. Loki shut them gently as he scooped them up one by one and set them on top of the shortest stacks. He then chose a book from the top of another pile and sat back to read, cradling the volume in one of his hands.

His eyes travelled over the pages, but the words never registered in his mind. Frustrated, he snapped the book shut and tossed it aside. It landed with a dull thunk. Perhaps Thor would know how to distract his mind.

. . .

 **Niya** awoke with a jolt, sending her stomach roiling. She took a moment to breathe deep and regain proper control of her senses. Another knock pounded on her door followed by sharp whispering. Then came another knock after she rolled over and burrowed deeper into the soft blankets. She threw them aside with a growl and shrugged on a robe. Thor beamed at her when she opened the door. Loki stood off to the side with his arms crossed.

"Do either of you have any idea what time it is?" Her voice sounded as though she had swallowed sand.

"Dress quickly. We're going on an adventure!"

"Oh, very good. Shout it to the palace. I'm not sure father heard you," Loki grumbled.

Thor simply continued to smile. "Go on," he urged her. "We'll wait for you."

Niya had her own arms crossed. "Do you not sleep?"

Loki gestured to her while looking at Thor. "See? She doesn't even want to go. Now can we all just go back to bed?"

Thor shot Loki a confused look. "You came to find me."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. But most of Asgard is asleep. Obviously so was she."

"She has a name," Niya interjected.

"Sleep is overrated," said Thor. Neither of them seemed to notice she had spoken.

"Only to some," said Loki.

"Will both of you be quiet? I'm putting on some clothes." She nearly slammed the door shut.

"I told you she'd go," sounded Thor's smug voice through the door. Niya groaned.

Regardless, she was dressed and had her hair tied back only moments later. Thor grinned at her again when she opened the door.

"Be gentle. I'm not of the adventuring type," she warned.

"What a shock." Loki had been leaning against the wall. He pushed of. "Can we get this over with?"

Thor stood between them and pulled them to his sides, his arms locked around their shoulders. "What would be the fun in that?"

Niya staggered under his hefty grip, but Thor didn't seem to notice. He let them go after a few paces.

"Is there anything I should know beforehand?" Anxiety was welling up, and she did her best to hide it.

"Yes," answered Loki. "Don't trust my brother."

Once outside the palace, the three of them crept though the shadowed streets. Niya had a feeling there wasn't much need to keep quiet, doubting anyone would stop them, but she was following their lead.

As instructed, Heimdall opened the Bifrost. The sentinel didn't even spare them a questioning glance, verifying that this was a normal occurrence for them.

Thor griped her around the waist. Loki raised an eyebrow, but they had gone through before he could say anything. When they landed, Niya nearly fell over. She would have, if Thor weren't holding her. He let her go once she was steady.

They'd landed in a forested area. The air was warm and damp. Vines hung from the branches in lazy coils. Unseen birds twittered and sung shrill songs. The trees were thinned enough in spots that moonlight trickled through.

"Are we here for a moonlit walk? Or are there hostile natives waiting to attack us?"

"There are some ruins a little ways off. I thought we could explore them a bit," answered Thor.

He began walking and Niya and Loki followed. The pace was slow, and Niya stumbled over almost every root and rock.

"No wonder you haven't gone anywhere," Loki hissed in her ear.

"I prefer my books."

A look of near amusement lightened his expression.

Thor pushed through a bush, revealing a statue. It stood as tall and wide as Thor, was clad in spiked armor, and was poised to strike with a sword in hand. Most of its face had been bashed in, but enough remained to see that it was a skull. The lower jaw was missing. The remaining teeth were jagged fangs. Twisting antlers sprouted from the top, and cracks laced all over. Moss grew over it in patches. Thor paid it no attention, but Niya shrunk away from it as she passed.

The further they walked, the more of these statues they saw. And soon the stepped foot on a dilapidated road. Grasses and weeds alike towered between the stones set flush to the earth. Tree roots had dislodged a few other stones, and Niya was forced to look down in order to remain upright. Loki caught her wrist, breaking her concentration and forcing her to stop in her tracks. She'd nearly walked into Thor.

They'd arrived at the crumbling gates of a black stone castle. The forest around them was screeching in protest. Thor stepped through the gate and the forest fell immediately silent. Niya found the silence more frightening than the cacophony. Inside, moss and mold clung to the deteriorating walls. Patches of the ceiling had fallen to the floor, allowing moonlight to light their path.

Niya studied tattered tapestries that hung every so often. Most were too burnt or faded to decipher the images. She came across one, however, that had survived the years. Women sat on rocks with their fish tails curling beneath clear pond water. They appeared to be giggling and flirting with an armor-clad warrior. Their arms wrapped around his shoulders and torso like tendrils, but the warrior looked serene. The creature behind the man had her fangs bared and clawed fingers curling around his neck. The entire scene was framed by the skeletons of trees with decaying armor and bits of limbs hidden among the twisting branches.

Niya turned away from the tapestry and realized she was standing alone. The corridor split into four directions, but there were no signs to indicate which Thor and Loki had taken.

"Thor?" She paused. "Loki?"

"This way," came a muffled answer. She turned left and continued walking. This hall seemed somehow brighter, a little warmer, and less broken. More tapestries had survived and were depicting beautiful celebrations.

"Where have you gone?" she asked again, having not yet caught up to them.

"Over here." They sounded closer, though the voice was still a bit muffled. Niya hurried towards it and found herself stepping out into a courtyard. Unlike everything else she had seen so far, the garden was verdant and wild. On the center sparkled a pond. It all looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't be bothered to think how.

. . .

" **We** shouldn't have brought her along. I knew she couldn't handle it," Loki said sharply.

"A little adventure is good for everyone." Thor looked to his brother. "Do not worry. It's likely she took a wrong turn."

They had been searching for Niya for at least ten minutes. They'd heard her calling for them, but no matter how many corridors they turned down, she was nowhere. Already, they'd gone in a circle three times, always ending up where they last saw her.

"This is your fault," said Loki.

"I just wanted to make her feel welcome," Thor protested.

"What part of any of this could possibly make her feel welcome?"

A scream echoed from the hall to their left, and they sprinted towards it. In an instant, Loki had his dagger in his hand.

They burst out into a garden and froze, glancing around for any sign of Niya. Loki crept forward soundlessly, half crouched and ready to strike. Thor made to follow, but Loki motioned for him to stop. The closer Loki came to the murky pond in the center, the more care he had to take to not step on rusty armor and the remains of various creatures of the nine realms. Half hidden in the tall grass and overgrown bushes lay Niya, fully unconscious and with a leg draped into the pond. Loki rushed forward and watched helplessly as a tentacle wrapped around her leg and dragged her under. He ran faster and dove in without hesitating. Seaweed pushed in against him and twisted around his arms. He gripped the dagger tighter, cut himself free, and swam forward.

Something swam behind Loki, brushing against his back. He spun around and was face to face with a stunning blonde. She had large blue eyes and caressed his face with soft strokes. He couldn't break her gaze and soon forgot what he was swimming for. The girl pulled herself closer, arms wrapped around his neck, and the dagger slipped a little in his grip. Regaining focus, the glamour of the beautiful blonde slipped away. Instead he was trapped in the tentacles of a scaled and fanged beast. He jabbed the dagger into one of the tentacles and swam free. Something bobbed in the shadows to his right, so Loki swam hard in that direction. As he drew closer, he saw it was Niya bound in seaweed. He fumbled to cut her free and dropped the dagger just as the seaweed snapped. With Niya under his arm, he could only swim in jagged bursts, but they reached the surface. Thor knelt at the water's edge, and Loki pushed Niya towards his brother's outstretched arm. Thor pulled her out effortlessly.

The creature crashed through the water's surface, throwing waves to break on the shore. Loki didn't have time to scramble to his feet before a slimy tendril crushed his ankle and yanked him below the water once more. Thor left Niya's side and began attacking any part of the creature he could reach. Once Thor crushed the tentacle entrapping Loki, Loki cast tens of illusions of himself. The creature lunged for whichever was closer, but the doubles were too quick. Soon it was just flailing about, sloshing water everywhere. Thor wound Mjolnir above his head and launched it at the creature's jaw. It went stone-still before falling with a low groan against the stone shore.

"Took you long enough," panted Loki as his illusions dissolved.

"You looked as though you had it under control." Thor scooped Niya into his arms. She mumbled something and curled closer into his chest.

"It think it's been more than enough adventure for one night," said Loki as he shoved past them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** _I am alive! I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to post. I've been busy dealing with being an adult. Life is difficult. But I'm hoping I can get this story going on a far more regular basis. I can only apologize again for taking so long, and, as always, I hope you enjoy!_

 **Midday** sunlight glowed through the window, illuminating the array of bruises along Niya's arm. She traced her fingertips around the mottled edges where one bruise met another, careful not to apply too much pressure. Her hands held minor cuts and scrapes, a small slice along her chin would surely scar over, and a bump shadowed her temple at her hairline. Over all she was sore but would heal shortly. When she complained of a headache, the maids left her alone. None but she had seen the damage of the previous night's adventures.

A soft knock on the door pulled Niya from her investigations. Before she could shove her arms into a long-sleeved robe, though, Frigga entered. Her eyes skimmed over the bruising and scratches before catching Niya's eyes. She gave her small smile of pity. "Perhaps I should have told Thor to play gently."

"I—he…I'm fine," Niya stammered.

Frigga eyed her with a hint of admiration. "I know. But my son can be a touch rough."

Niya shook her head. "He didn't do this to me. It was some creature."

"Yes. But sometimes he forgets that not everyone can defend themselves the way he does."

"It was Thor who saved me." Realizing she was on the verge of arguing with the All Mother, Niya shied away and toyed with one of her loose curls.

Pity now softened Frigga's features. "If you would like, we can have our physicians look after you. I'm certain we've got some medicine to help."

"No. Thank you. I'll be fine."

Frigga stood before Niya and smiled. "Thor has always been so quick to make friends. He adores people and their opinions. He makes it his duty to make people smile." Her brow furrowed. "He means well, if he is a bit overzealous." She paused before continuing. "But Loki." She was no longer looking at Niya, but out the window. "Loki's cautious. He asses the situation and weighs the outcome before acting. He loves people from afar, befriends few, and lets even fewer close to him."

Niya sighed. "Is this the part where you tell me to give him some time? That he'll come round in the end?"

"I could, but what would be the point? You already know and accept it."

"I accept it?"

Frigga nodded. "Oh yes. You accept the same quality within yourself, and you see it in Loki."

Niya stepped half a step back, flummoxed. "And on what do you base these claims?"

"Observation, dear." She flashed Niya a knowing smile. "Loki's got his tricks, but where do you think he learned them?"

Niya wondered what that meant. Was the Allmother spying on her? Was Loki? "Certainly I am allowed my privacy during my stay."

Frigga smiled. "But of course, my dear. This is your home now, and I would expect you to treat it as such."

Niya frowned. "My home?"

"Had your father not told you?"

Niya remembered the argument she'd had with her father before coming to Asgard. He'd told her not to return until she'd secured a betrothal to a prince. If Frigga knew of the stipulations of her return, did that mean she knew it'd take years for that to happen? Or would Niya even want to return once she was betrothed? She nodded slowly in response. "No, he did. I suppose I haven't had much time to think it over."

"I'll leave you to your devices. I wanted to check on you before I rescue my sons from the Allfather's wrath." She smirked as though it were a great joke. "Just know that I'm grateful for your presence, Niya."

 **. . .**

 **Odin** loomed before his throne, casting his disappointment down on his sons. Thor stood with his jaw set, looking directly at his father. Loki stood beside him with arms crossed and eyes downcast to the base of the golden dais.

"How could I have two sons so careless as you?" Odin's voice filled the entire chamber.

"It was only a bit of fun. I meant only to make her feel welcome," Thor countered.

"Fun? Dark magic and death is fun? That girl's life is not a game."

"Only in politics," Thor growled.

"Speak not of what you don't understand."

"She has a life, father, which she has not yet been allowed to live." Thor was beginning to shout.

"Thor," Loki warned softly.

"How arrogant you are to think you have the authority to decide how she lives," Odin growled.

Thor scowled. "You're no better! you've not even spoken to her, and yet would cast her aside! Lock her in a room to use at a later time!"

"Such insolence will not be tolerated! And you, Loki! Do you not care for the life of your betrothed?"

Loki dropped his hands to his sides. "Of course—!"

"The why allow your brother to be so careless? She is to be your wife, Loki, not Thor's. Take control."

"She is her own person and will do as she pleases. She is not a play thing to command or toss aside." Loki's eyes flashed.

"I never said she was. I'm reminding you that she is to be your wife!"

"In an equal marriage!" Loki's voice cracked with the force of his rage. "I will have no command over her, nor will she over me."

Odin slumped back into his throne. "And here is one of many reasons Thor shall one day rule over Asgard, and not you. How are you to command the nine realms if you cannot command a single person?"

Loki's lips were drawn so tight they'd gone white. Fury blazed behind his emerald eyes. "A marriage is not a kingdom. A wife is not to be commanded." He pulled in a shaky, shallow breath. "Tell me, father, do you command mother?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Is that what you think, my love?" Frigga had walked in and took her place between her sons. "If you have command over me, then I certainly have command over you. In all the ways that count." She smirked. She'd silenced Odin for the moment. "Now forgive my sons in their eagerness, and let them go. They've committed no crimes, and are not under trial." She stroked Thor's massive arm before turning to Loki. She smiled. "Go. Enjoy the day." She tilted her head to one side. "And do make an effort with Niya."

Thor and Loki turned and stormed from the hall. They turned a corner and Thor laughter lightly.

"What could possibly be amusing?" Loki hissed.

"That was like old times, was it not?"

he shot Thor a venomous glare. "This is not a game! Your mindless scheming put her life in peril!"

Thor grinned. "You do care, then."

Loki recoiled. "She means nothing." With that, he stalked away.

 **. . .**

 **Niya** stayed in her room the remainder of the day, wanting to avoid the gaze of curious Asgardians. Their curiosity would only be piqued by her visible injuries. She also wasn't certain she could handle the disapproving, fiery gaze of the Allfather. Word spread quickly, and one of her maids heard from one of the kitchen maids who was betrothed to one of the Allfather's servants that the princes received a scolding not heard in these halls since the were boys. On the one hand, it served them right for dragging her on a death-defying midnight adventure. But on the other, hand, she couldn't stop the seed of guilt from rooting to the corners of her heart. If she was capable of feeling even that small twinge of guilt, then likely the Allfather would lay the blame also with her, in part, and display his wrath.

So she read, and napped, and tended to her wounds, and read some more, and took her meals on the balcony. It was mindless, but nothing she wasn't already used to in her own home. When she fell asleep that night, she dreamed of that ruined palace. Sweet music lured her back to the overgrown garden. She felt the slimy, scaly tendrils wrapping around her limbs, brushing against her skin in a faux caress, only to tighten into a strangling bind.

Niya's eyes shot open in her panicked dream state, and she gasped for air. A sheen of sweat made her nightdress cling to her collar, and the sateen bedding entrapped her legs. Attempting sleep was futile, and she knew it, so Niya got up and took a moment to freshen herself in the water basin and dressed quickly. This was to be her home. Surely it would be acceptable for her to wander its halls and learn the layout.

The lighting alternated between silver moonlight casting beams through the windows, and golden torchlight flickering in recesses. The golden walls and glittering stone floors reflected the lights in a warm glow. The long corridors, much like her own back home, were dotted with doors and alcoves, and seemed to wind in an endless maze. A mural ran the length of one wall, and Niya gazed in wonder at the detail, continuing on her walk. The scene was of a battle between the Jotuns and Asgardians with Midgardians caught in the middle. Some had been torn to shreds, others were frozen solid. The surviving Midgardians ran in terror or wept in grief. Neither Jotuns or Asgardians paid them attention.

"My father's most glorious success."

Niya suppressed her gasp and eased her breathing. She wasn't particularly pleased to see Loki, but she'd try to behave as long as he did. "Glorious success?" She traced the outline of a Midgardian man cradling the remains of his child. "Define success."

Loki moved to stand beside her. "My father is blind to the cost of his actions, but all he does is for the good of the nine realms." His tone was soft, but Niya thought his eyes betrayed a hint of malice. She blinked and the look was gone. Perhaps it had been shadow tricks.

"I suppose you and Thor are proud to be his sons."

"Proud to be the heir of a man who would pit his sons against each other?" He laughed wryly.

"Yet you're so desperate to please him." A surge of empathy crashed over her as she watched him.

A small frown creased his features. "What makes you say that?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I don't know what I'm talking about." She forced a smile. Loki took a moment to assess Niya's face. She could feel her cheeks turn pink under his gaze. She looked away and toyed with the neckline of her dress.

"The night changes you." He seemed caught between amusement and concern.

"How do you mean?"

His head ticked to the side. "You're easier to talk with, but your convictions are lacking."

She shrugged. "Perhaps I simply tire of arguing. It's all we've done this far."

He grinned. "But don't you find that spark enticing?"

"I can see you do."

"There are few I've met whose intellect challenges mine."

Niya raised her eyebrows. "How humble you are."

Loki laughed softly. "My apologies. I meant only to pay you a compliment."

"While admiring yourself in the process. Your skills are astounding." Niya smiled despite herself.

The two watched each other in the flicker of the torchlight. He leaned against the mural, arms crossed over his chest, and allowed his eyes to graze over her features. The low light seemed to soften his expression, and Niya found herself thinking Loki a touch handsome. She silently cursed herself with a frown.

He furrowed his brows, one dipping lower than the other. "You are unhappy here."

Niya shook her head. "No more than in my own home."

"If it is something I've done, I apologize greatly."

"No. It's not you in particular." She twisted a curl between two fingertips. "It's…well, I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"You feel imprisoned by expectation."

She nodded slowly. "I suppose that's a good way to describe it."

"So goes the story of my life." His expression hardened. "Ah, well. I won't bore you with that." He forced a tight smile.

Niya cocked an eyebrow. "I'm sure I can imagine. After all, isn't it universal law that children disappoint their parents?"

Loki shrugged. "Perhaps. But there may be one or two out there who've managed to make their fathers proud." His eyes grazed over her wounds. "I can't imagine you've done much to disappoint your own father."

She dipped her head low to shy away from his attention. "You don't know me well." She could still feel Loki's eyes on her. "If you'll excuse me, it's getting late."

"Of course. Please allow me to escort you to your room."

"I can manage. Beisdes, I wasn't finished with my tour."

"Were you not show around upon your arrival?"

"I prefer to see the grounds as they are, not some censored version I'm allowed to see. If you'll excuse me." Niya started to move around him.

"Are you not enjoying our little chat?" Loki asked, grabbing her arm lightly.

She held her head high. "As pleasant as you are forcing yourself to be, I'd rather spend the remainder of my evening alone." She pulled her arm free.

"How dreadfully dull."

She clenched her jaw. "No less so than dredging through mundane conversation with you."

"Well. Don't let me ruin your night. I'll see you tomorrow then."

She forced a smile. "It's inevitable, I'm sure." She turned away from him and strolled down the hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Niya** meandered through the gardens, admiring the array of flowers winding their way around the statues and columns. Birds chirped from unseen perches, and a soft breeze blew through her curls. She turned a corner and found a large fountain sending sparkling cascades into a shallow pool. She stepped up onto the stone edge, gathered the hem of her skirts in one hand, and gracefully tiptoed along the curve. The cool spray landed like glitter on her bare shoulders and arms. On the other side of the fountain was a courtyard encircled with ornate arches. She could hear talking, but couldn't quite make out what was being said or by who. She stepped from the fountain and hid behind one of the arches. When she heard it was Thor, she peered around the edge.

Thor was sparing with Lady Sif, though most of his attention was on jesting with her. She smirked as she lunged forward, and he laughed as he sprang back. She swung her blade in a low spin, which he easily jumped over. As if she'd anticipated it, Lady Sif continued her dance and spun her blade high. Thor hardly had time to block her attack and almost lost his footing. She took advantage of this and pushed forward with her attacks until Thor was backed against the wall.

"Typical, Thor. You're more focused on the fun of the match. Will you ever take our sparring seriously?"

Thor straightened himself and grinned. "You know I'm no good with a blade. If you'd allow me to spar with Mjonir, then we'd see for sure who is the better warrior."

Sif scoffed. "If you were allowed Mjonir, there'd be no match, God of Thunder." She spat his title with sarcasm.

"I've never asked anyone to call me that." But he couldn't hide the pride the name gave him.

Sif laughed. "Save for every time you have your fill of drink."

Thor mocked being offended. "I would never."

Niya couldn't stifle her giggle quick enough. Thor saw her and beamed. "Niya! Wonderful to see you. Come! Join us in a sparring match! Perhaps you and Lady Sif could join forces to give me proper competition."

Niya stepped out from behind the arch and reluctantly made her way to them. "I'm sure Lady Sif is more than capable."

"As I've just proven," she agreed. Her steel-cold eyes grazed over Niya's form, lingering over each cut and bruise. "I doubt she could even hold a blade."

Niya bristled at her words, but couldn't find a proper retort. How could she argue with the truth? Niya knew she was no warrior and would cause herself more injury if she tried.

Thor smiled warmly down at Niya. "All she needs is a bit of training."

"Training and a miracle. Look at her, Thor. She's a mess! Her posture's slumped, her arms are thin, and she's too soft around the middle. You give her a sword and she'll drop it on her own foot."

Niya twisted her fingers together and glared at the ground. Her anger bubbled but she bit her tongue. To start a fight with Lady Sif would not end well. If she could guarantee it remained verbal sparring, Niya wouldn't have hesitated. Knowing Lady Sif's character a bit and feeling her own anger reach the current levels, however, she knew physical violence was inevitable. Her hand was beginning to shake from the restraint.

Thor laughed. "She's more capable than you think."

Lady Sif smirked and turned to Thor. "Well then, I'll give her my sword and we will see." She held it out the Niya hilt first with a raised eyebrow. "Unless, of course, you're too frightened."

Niya glanced at Thor then at Sif before grabbing the hilt. "As he said, I'm more capable than you know." The empty words tasted like dust on her tongue. She tried to swallow as she turned to face Thor.

"This should be entertaining," Lady Sif muttered as she backed away.

Thor raised his own sparring sword. "Do not worry. I'll go easy on you." With that, he thrust a few testing hits at her. It was all she could do to block him. Left, right, left, left, chest…her arms flew from one block to another, and she couldn't find an opening to begin to fight back. Thor sliced downward, and she blocked, but his sword caught on her hilt, knocking it free from her grasp. The blunt edge of his sword hit against her wrist, and she cried out, cradling her wrist. He stepped towards her, but she waved him away. Gritting her teeth, she picked up the sword and spun around for what she hoped would be a surprise attack. Thor blocked her, sending a hard vibration up through her arm. She thought her wrist had caught fire for all the pain. She struggled to keep hold of the blade as she blocked another attack. With blind frustration, she lunged forward and barely grazed Thor's side. He laughed as he stepped away and landed a hard hit against her ribs. Stars burst in her vision as she gasped for breath. He took advantage of her vulnerability and caught another hit on her shoulder. Niya couldn't stop herself from crying out.

"Thor! Leave her alone."

Niya's sword clanged against the stone as she fought to keep herself standing. Through her pain-bleary sight, she could see Loki standing between her and Thor. She wanted to protest against him, but words took too much breath.

"We were having a bit of fun," Thor said. Lady Sif was now standing beside him, arms crossed over her chest.

"You call this fun? She's on the verge of passing out, Thor."

"I went easy on her."

"Apparently not easy enough. Look at her!"

"I can defend myself," Niya wheezed. She winced trying to stand straight.

Loki faced her. "Of course you can't, Niya. You can't even stand right now."

"I just need training."

"I was attempting to train her," Thor rushed to explain.

Loki rounded on his brother. "You don't do that by beating her half to death! Would you have stopped, brother? Did you even notice the injury you've caused her?"

Thor glared. "Of course I would have. I'm not the brainless oaf you believe me to be."

"Did she consent to your brutish version of training?"

"Loki," Niya snapped. "He is not to blame. I got myself into this. I grabbed the sword, and I swung it at him. If I didn't think I could handle it, I would have declined."

"Thor, Lady Sif, please leave so that I may speak with Niya."

They stayed where they stood. "It's alright, Thor." Only then did they saunter from the courtyard. Loki stood still as a statue, and Niya shot him her most venomous glare. "How dare you. I am not yours to defend. Don't you _ever_ use me again to fulfill your petty hero complex." Her voice was low as she hissed her disdain.

"Hero complex? Niya, look at you." He brushed his fingertips over the cut along her chin before she recoiled. "You're weak. You're covered in cuts and bruises from a childish excursion."

"I'll heal."

"Listen to me. If you continue to play along with Thor's half-cocked schemes, you'll end up dead." His eyebrows knit together. "That was Thor going easy on you. The art of finesse and gentility has always eluded him."

"Then what would you have me do? Stay locked in my room until you have use of me? Play the dutiful wife, happy to obey your every command?" She was shaking again with rage. But defeat also ate away at her and choked her with hot tears. "To do that to me, Loki, would kill me. If that's your plan for me—" She stopped short. Speaking another word would completely undo her.

"I will teach you." His voice was soft. "I will work with you every day if I must, so that you can defend yourself."

"Since when do you care about my safety?"

"Why must you always fight me?"

"Don't evade my question."

Loki sighed. "Please, just let me teach you."

"Until today, you didn't want to have anything to do with me. Where was this concern in the ruins?"

Loki flinched as if she'd slapped him. "Will you let me teach you?" His tone was now laced with irritation.

"I think I'll teach myself, thanks." She puffed her chest out. "If I need any assistance, I'll ask Thor."

"So he can hurt you even more?"

"He's the only one who seems to care about me. At least he's trying."

Loki frowned. "I _am_ trying, Niya! If you weren't too stubborn, you'd see that!"

"I said if I need assistance, I'll ask Thor." Her voice was hard again. "Thank you for your offer, but I decline." She thought she heard him growl as she walked away.

 **. . .**

 **Niya** wiped the sweat from her brow before launching another series of attacks at the dummy she'd found. The sparring blade was heavy in her injured hand, and she knew she'd later pay for pushing through the pain. She growled as she waved the blade from side to side, each hit hardly moving the dummy. She took turns imagining Sif's snide smirk and Loki's artificial concern. The rage each made her feel burned quick, and she let the blade drag against the stone.

"You focus too much on the emotion. The technique is left wanting." Thor leaned against the pillar, watching her with a soft smile.

"I was just-" She waved breathlessly at the dummy.

Thor walked over to her and grabbed the blade from her hand. "Clear your mind. It's not about rage, or proving yourself. It's not even about physical strength." He twisted the blade to a ready position and attacked the dummy with two swift hits, leaving it wobbling on its stand. "Learn the techniques first, then you can learn to use those emotions to fuel your attacks." He handed the blade back to her.

She grabbed it. "Technique always seems to be furthest from your mind."

Thor laughed. "I've had a bit of practice. Now, show me what you've got."

Niya rallied her energy and raised the sword for another go. Before she swung, Thor stood behind her and lowered her shoulder, pushed her to bend her knees and shifted her hips so she was forced to stand with her left leg forward. He stepped away, and she lunged forward. The blade hit with more force than she expected, but with less shock against her injured wrist.

"Good. Now go again."

She tried to recreate the stance Thor positioned her in before trying an upper swing. The blade grazed against the side of the dummy.

"You'll get there. But for tonight, let's not try to get too fancy."

Niya landed six more hits before her thoughts overtook her. She threw her sword at the dummy and groaned as she ran her hands through her hair.

"Push those thoughts out, Niya. I know you can."

"But what does it matter? I'll never be good enough. I'm nothing but a liability. I'm weak," she echoed Loki's words.

Thor grabbed her by the shoulders and made her look up at him. "You are not weak. You are of strong will and mind. I've never seen anyone who could match Loki in a battle of wits. You are small and quick. Combine your mind and your speed, and use that to your advantage. With those two things alone, you can outsmart your enemy."

"But I could never overpower them."

Thor chuckled. "Who would you need to overpower? You're in no danger here. Besides, you've got me. I will be your protector."

Niya frowned. "I can't always rely on you to save me. This is something I need for myself."

Thor pulled her into a hug. "Then of course I am here for you." He released her. "But tonight, I think we are done. Get some rest. You've got training in the morning."


	6. Chapter 6

**Niya** awoke the next morning with her stomach knotted with excitement and anxiety. On the one hand, learning to fight was something she'd wanted to do since she was a child. She would run around her gardens, brandishing sticks as swords, while her maids chased after her. The fun stopped when she was seven and her father decided she needed to behave like a lady. Learning to embroider, eat daintily, and sit straight bored the sense of adventure out of her. which brought her to her main cause of anxiety—what if she really was no good? If both Loki and Sif thought her weak, thoroughly incapable, then perhaps they saw the truth. Perhaps she wasn't meant for combat. Why should it matter if she could fight or not? If the name on her wrist was put there by destiny, then Loki wouldn't care if she were weak and defenseless.

She pondered her thoughts in circles as she made her way to the courtyard. Thor stood before the dummy, waiting. He smiled when he saw her. "Are you ready to become a great warrior?"

"I don't know about great, but I'm here to try."

"Nonsense! You'll do wonderfully!"

As it turned out, Niya did not do wonderfully. She couldn't hold her arms high enough. Her feet were too close together. She kept throwing herself off balance, stumbling sideways. She swung too wide, her hand gripped too close to the end of the hilt, and she couldn't put her whole body into the motion.

"No, no no! Stop!" Thor shouted. "Step one foot forward." Niya put out her right foot. "No, you need the opposite foot from the direction you're swinging."

"What does it matter?" Niya snarled, wiping sweat from her forehead.

"If you swing from the right, you push off with your right foot. It builds momentum through your body's center. That momentum carries forward to the left foot, making your swing stronger."

"But that's what I've been doing!"

"Not from what I've seen! I've seen you tense your upper body tying to use the strength in just your arms. I've seen you throw yourself sideways. When did you push forward? Where was your followthrough?"

Niya huffed, raised the dull blade, and lunged forward. "I am following through!" She punctuated each word with a hit on the dummy's side.

"Then show me!"

Niya swung forward again, loosing a frustrated scream. The dummy wobbled on its post.

"Good! Do it again."

Niya glared at him, but swung again.

"No, you have to push off!"

She marched up to Thor. "I _am_ pushing off. I've been doing everything you instruct me to, and then you yell at me for not doing it well enough! All I know for certain is that I'm hot, I'm exhausted, and all your yelling isn't helping." She shoved a loose curl behind her ear. "As much as I love you, Thor, this isn't working." She frowned at his grin. "What?"

"I knew you loved me."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't get too excited, alright? You're not exactly my favorite person at this moment."

"But you love me." He pulled her into a strangling hug.

Niya shoved Thor away, smiling up at him. "You're an atrocious tutor. Now please leave me to practice on my own."

He chuckled. "Couldn't I at least stay to watch?"

She shook her head. "You are incapable of silence." She pointed towards the palace. "Go on. I'll be fine on my own."

With a warm smile, he nodded. "Alright. I shall respect your wishes."

Niya watched him leave before mustering her will and energy to continue. The sword felt heavy in her hands, but she dragged it upward, preparing for a series of attacks. Her arms protested each swing, and each hit numbed her grip with the vibrations radiating from impact. After a few sets, she started losing motivation.

"You know what your problem is?"

She yelped as she turned to face Loki. "My gods!" She gasped. "Don't do that!"

"Shall I arrange for trumpets to announce my arrivals henceforth?"

"Oh please." She glared. "Must you turn everything into a joke?"

"Only when occasion calls for it." He smirked.

"And every occasion calls for it, is that it?"

"Only with you, Love." Niya flinched at the word, and Loki ignored her reaction. "Which brings me to my original statement. Your problem is that you're too tense."

She bristled at the accusation, took a slow, deep breath, and asked, "You've a solution, I suppose?"

"Put down the sword."

She rolled her eyes. "We've been over this, Loki. I will learn to defend myself!"

"That was only the first part. There's more to it." He took a tentative step towards her. "Now, let go of the sword."

Niya scowled and hesitated a moment before handing the sword, hilt first, to Loki. He set it down with a small tang of metal on stone. She tracked his smallest movements. "The second part?" she snapped.

Loki straightened himself as he took another step towards her. "Please just trust me." She seemed to hold her breath as she watched him take yet another step towards her, palms displayed outward. They now stood no more than twelve inches apart.

She looked into his emerald green eyes and noticed a few flecks of gold around the pupils. She swallowed and exhaled slowly. "The second part?" she asked again, her voice less harsh.

"Is this."

Cradled in his slender fingers was a dagger. The blade was ten inches, etched with intricate swirls. The handle was gold filigree and black leather. Niya grabbed it from him and held it in her own hands as if it would shatter.

"It was mine in boyhood. Mother gave it to me as a show of trust and worthiness, much to father's disproval. He felt I was too childish to be trusted."

"It's stunning. I couldn't possibly accept this." She tried to hand it back, but Loki closed her fingers around the hilt.

"I gladly give it to you. And if you still wish to train alone, I'll step aside." He gave her a small smile. "Though I do wish you'd let me help."

"Thank you." She smiled her own small smile. "And I suppose a little help wouldn't hurt."

 **. . .**

 **Though** her muscles ached and screamed for rest, sleep eluded Niya. She tossed in her blankets and forced her eyes to stay shut, but her mind kept spinning. She slipped her hand beneath her pillow to retrieve the dagger Loki gave her. Her fingertips traced the pattern along the hilt and curved around the leather-bound handle. It was soft and warm against her palm—a comfortable grip that fit her small hand. It balanced without the faintest waver on her finger. She didn't have to know anything about weapons to know this was a dagger of the highest quality. But more important was the knowledge that it had been his.

Niya slid the dagger back under her pillow. The silver moonlight glanced off the ribbon at her wrist and she toyed with the edge. It'd been so long since she truly looked at her wrist. The ribbon was fraying a touch, but the sheen was bright as ever and the fabric was soft and cool. Her fingers itched to undo the knot, but somehow it still didn't feel right. She knew time hadn't changed the name etched in black. How many years had she kept it hidden away? How long had she been ashamed and resentful of that name? She let her fingers trail down the ribbon's loose ends. It left a cool and oddly comforting feeling between her middle and index finger. Before long, she'd lulled herself to sleep playing with the ribbon ends.


	7. Chapter 7

**T** raining with Loki wasn't as awful as Niya expected. He didn't yell at her when she didn't immediately get the steps right. Although, he wasn't all that supportive when she doubted herself, and his lips flattened into a thin white line when she took a while to do something right. Most of the screaming was done by Niya, directed at herself. She frequently dropped her stick (Loki refused to allow her a real dagger), she tripped over her own feet, and she felt like a fool flailing about. Each time her anger boiled over, Loki stood back and waited.

After one of her tirades, she noticed Loki looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "Yes?" He didn't answer. "Right. I know I'm being absurd. It takes years to master a skill, and all pertinent clichés thereafter. However, I'm impatient, and it's frustrating." Still Loki said nothing. "If I were able to keep a clear head, I might learn better, quicker, but…" She threw her hands up in a hopeless gesture. They fell back at her sides where she perched a palm on her hip. "How can I change who I am?" She watched Loki as if she expected an answer.

"Have you finished?"

"Yes, I believe I have."

He unfolded his arms from his chest. "Fantastic. Now pick up the stick and let's go again."

Niya released a small groan as she snatched the stick and sunk into her fight stance. Her knees were bent, one foot slightly forward, and the bulk of her weight shifted to the balls of her feet. She was either ready to pounce or to teeter forward, off balance, again.

"The dagger is nothing more than an extension of your reach. Your arm ends with the dagger's point. Aim your strikes as you would if you were striking with your fist. Use one hand to hold the blade at the ready, and protect your body with the other."

Niya raised her stick hand a bit higher and moved her other hand to hover over her stomach. Loki stepped close to her and angled her protective arm by pressing down on her elbow with one hand and pushing her wrist up with the other. "By having your arm angled, you're protecting more of yourself. It also makes it easier to block an attack." He stepped back and mirrored her stance. "Try to attack me."

Niya took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes in concentration. She tried for a jab at his shoulder, but he deflected her blow easily with the back of his arm. She slashed down at his side and was blocked again. No matter where she moved her aim, or how fast her strikes came, she was deflected.

"You're getting better."

"How can you say that?" She pushed the stray hairs back from her face.

"Because you are. You're more confident in your motions. That confidence is giving you speed and accuracy."

Niya tried to pinch her smile between her lips. Her instinct was to retort with a snarky comment, but she felt it was unnecessary. After all, he had just paid her a compliment. "I'm certain your instruction played a part."

Loki smiled. "Do I detect a hint of sincerity? Perhaps just a touch of gratitude?"

"My gods!" She rolled her eyes with a laugh. "Never again."

"What?"

"That's the last compliment I'll give you."

Loki grinned wider. "If I may, at the risk of being impertinent, that was the only compliment you've given me thus far."

"And the last, as I said. Don't make a fuss about it, alright?" She bowed her head to hide her smile before readjusting her stance for another series of attacks.

Loki raised his hands, ready to receive her strikes. When she lunged at him, he caught her wrist with one hand, smacked the stick aside with the other, and pulled her against him. The arm he caught was pinned behind her back between them. His other arm wrapped over her shoulders so she couldn't move.

Not that she would have. Niya was so caught off guard she could only stand against Loki. If her arm weren't pinned behind her, she'd have fit perfectly against him. His chest fell slow and steady with each breath. She cursed herself for being distracted and cleared her throat. "Loki? Could you, perhaps, let me go?" Wordlessly he released her. "Now," she straightened her dress, "what in the name of Odin was that about?"

"You're ready for stage two—disarming."

"Disarming?" Her mind was still scattered.

"It's easier than you'd expect, and relies on speed."

She raised her eyebrows, looking at him in complete disbelief. "And you believe I could disarm you?"

"Wholeheartedly," he answered.

"I mean, you're no Thor." His smile flickered. It was such a small movement, Niya wondered if she'd imagined it. "Though you may as well be against someone like me."

. . .

 **N** iya and Loki practiced together each morning. She'd taken to wearing his knife at her hip throughout the day, spinning it between her fingertips even while she read or ate. Toying with the blade at supper caused several disdainful glares and some indiscrete muttering. Loki had to clear his throat and place his hand over hers to get her to stop. Polite conversation resumed as normal, and Thor launched into a glorious tale of misadventure.

Loki was already sitting close enough to Niya that their knees grazed against each other, but he leaned closer still. "I admire your persistence, Darling, but I must remind you that there is a time and place." His hand was still entwined with hers.

"How unfortunate the dining table isn't on the approved list." She smiled. "I'll oblige, but if my skills start lacking, I'll blame you."

"I would expect nothing less."

Niya freed her hand from his to sheath the knife. She started to stand, but Loki stopped her. "Where are you going?"

"I thought I'd get some practice in."

"Without your sparring partner?"

She sunk back in her chair. "Well we both can't leave at once."

Loki smirked. "Afraid of idle minds and restless tongues?"

Niya frowned. "It's not you they'd be tearing apart." Her lips puckered in thought. "I'll feign ill. You may excuse yourself sometime after as you see fit. No one would fuss if you left."

"My father might."

With her head cocked aside, she said, "As if you've ever let that bother you." Before he could speak, she continued. "But I wouldn't mind my original plan to practice alone." She looked at him pointedly as she rose to address the dining party. "Please excuse me," her voice was breathy and weak, her expression blank and glassy eyed, "but I don't feel well." She added a gentle sway and a small show of steadying herself. "I'll be retiring for the evening." She took each step with careful determination, as though it pained her to move.

Loki had to press his hand to his mouth to hide his smile. A few watched her leave with mild concern, but most had returned to their dinner.

Niya didn't wait in the corridor for Loki. She honestly didn't care if he followed her or not. Rain poured outside, so she meandered the halls until she found a vacant room. It was a ballroom about a quarter of the size of the grand hall, but just as regal. The clack of her heels echoed, bouncing off the vast arches and multiplying in the domed ceiling. She stopped in the center of the room and slipped off her heels, kicking them aside. Feeling oddly self-conscious in the empty room, she turned a slow circle to check she really was alone. Satisfied no one was lurking, she unsheathed the blade and sunk into her ready position.

The intricate silver blade glittered in the low light as Niya swept her arm in an arc from head to hip. The handle spun against her palm, sticking out at a right angle from her hand, so it would slash the imaginary attacker when she raised her arm to block. The blade dropped from her right hand down to her left, and she spun backwards, away from the invisible opponent. She tossed the blade back to her right hand as she completed her spin to come full circle. She finished the set off with a lunging jab, and began again. The second time she ran through the set was easier, more fluid. On the third, she wasn't thinking about the steps any longer. It had come together to form a graceful dance of defensive maneuvers.

Niya spun with her blade pointed out and yelped. The point nearly grazed against Loki's chest, resting over his heart. She stood frozen. Loki gently pressed her arm down so the dagger was no longer a threat.

"You're getting quite good," he said.

Niya stared wide-eyed, slightly slack-jawed. "I almost stabbed you."

"And with such excellent form, might I add." He smiled. "It's quite alright, Niya. I remain unharmed. Look. Not even a scratch." He held his arms out so she could inspect him.

"Why would you sneak up on me like that?" Anger was slowly unfreezing her limbs, replacing fear. She glanced at his chest, and sure enough not even a thread was loose. She looked back up at his amused face. His smirk made her want to slap him. Not hard, just enough to sting a little, maybe give him a red mark for a few minutes. "How did you even find me?"

His smirk grew into a grin. "I've got my ways."

Niya's gaze drifted from his green eyes down to his lips, paused a moment, then skimmed down the curves of his neck to his chest. Her hand moved of its own volition, pressing her palm over his heart. She looked back up at him. His grin had softened. She pressed her palm a little more against him. "You're standing a bit too close for sparring, don't you think?" It was Niya's turn to smirk as they stepped away from each other. Niya sheathed the knife. They'd practice without weapons tonight.

"You're quite good at charades," Loki noted as they readied themselves. "There were several at dinner who were rather concerned about you."

Niya shrugged. "I've gotten out of many dull dinners that way. My father was convinced I was dying of something for a while." She blocked, deflecting Loki's blow to her left. He was leading her in a drill they'd practiced so much in a week it was now engrained in her muscle memory. Likewise, he deflected her attack.

"Regardless, I admire your skill." He stepped back as she lunged. She stepped back when he did the same. They raised their arms in a defensive motion. Their steps mirrored each other's as they circled each other.

"It seems an odd thing to admire, but I appreciate the compliment." She ducked his swing, and he stopped her counterattack. "And what story did you tell them, if I may ask?"

He caught her jab and pulled her close. "I said I would look after you."

Niya's heart missed a beat and she could feel her cheeks redden. Loki held her right hand still, raised palm to palm between them, and his other hand had wrapped around her waist. She realized her other arm was also wrapped around him, and she couldn't remember how or when that happened. She thought she needed to respond to him, but words flitted away as soon as she thought them. There was no witty comeback or snarky comment.

The doors echoed shut, and they both looked over to see Thor. "Brother! Niya! I've found you both at last!" How was he so happy all the time? "I hope I'm not interrupting." He grinned suggestively as he stood before them.

Niya cleared her throat as she stepped away. "No, nothing at all," she muttered.

"We've been sparring," Loki answered.

Thor watched them with his brilliant grin a moment longer. "Well. Lady Sif, the Warriors Three, and I are venturing out to Vanaheim. There have been reports of a rampaging monster. Our little band can easily manage it."

"Certainly, Brother. Count me in."

"And me," answered Niya.

Loki spun to face her. "Absolutely not."

Niya raised her eyebrows in shock. "Of course I am. You know very well how much I've improved. I need a practical situation to test my skills."

Loki shook his head. "Not this. This is a serious matter, Niya, and I will not watch you get hurt again."

"You have that little faith in me? In your ability as a trainer?"

"I—That's not what I'm saying."

"You will allow me the chance to prove myself." She stepped close to Loki again, looking up into his eyes. "Please. I need this."

His eyebrows knit together, one just a little higher than the other. "Promise me you'll stay at my side. If it turns out to be too dangerous for you, you'll do as I say and return to Asgard."

"Of course." She turned back to Thor, beaming. "Let's save Vanaheim."


End file.
